#i just. meh. but maybe

[moons-rising]

definitely some interesting options out there... choicesss 👀

sable sable oilslick

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)

[feelo-fick]

golden retreiver and dorset sheep. you agree.

[star-bastard]

SHUT UP ABOUT THE ICE TWINK!!!! SHUT UP ABOUT THE ICE TWINK!!!!!

SOMEONE ELSE TALK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS LITTLE GIRL!!!!!!

[aroaceleovaldez]

yknow, I am amused that solangelo fanon was so tunnel-vision in like 2014 that in the midst of crawling through literally every time Will had popped up in the series prior, somehow the ONE singular instance of Will referencing something that the fandom did absolutely nothing with was the thing Rick then decided to draw out into being a major character trait for Will.

Like. Nico eats McDonalds once and it becomes a huge fanon thing, but Will references Star Trek and the fandom doesn't make a peep until Rick explicitly canonizes that he's a huge sci fi nerd. and Rick doesn't even keep it consistent! He changes it so Will is a Star Wars nerd instead of Star Trek. smh 😔 /lh

[dootznbootz]

Fascinating how Polites, the character who is the personification of Odysseus' optimism and is only in 5 songs, is more grieved and appreciated than Eurylochus, a character who is his own person and is in 11 songs.

[the-derpy-duck]

I fucking love this show

Clip describes like half of the TF fandom

[burrowingdweller]

Gaster's blasters progress 2020->2023 🤭

[mediumgayitalian]

The crooked, creaky door of the cluttered infirmary storage room pushes open and slams shut in the span of a second, just barely allowing someone to dart through. Nico jumps, banging his head on the shelf he’s hiding under, chomping full force on his lip to bite back a shout. The shadows, on lucky reflex, bend around him and shroud his face. The rest of him he tucks further into the forgotten corner between two filing cabinets, holding his breath.

Under the unflattering light of the single swinging lightbulb, Will looks dull.

A thin headband attempts to hold back his frizzy hair, although it does very little. Curls stick out oddly and many shorter hairs are plastered to his temples and the back of his neck. His skin is unusually lacklustre, even pale, except for the high flush around his cheekbones. The bruising under his eyes rivals Nico’s. He has been wearing the same scrubs for the last two days.

With one last look at the closed door, nothing but garbled voices filtering through the heavy wood, he slumps. He drops his face into his chapped and bleeding hands, heels pressed into his eyes, and holds them there for ten seconds, twenty. Slowly, with trembles so minute they are at first glance unnoticeable, his shoulders begin to shake. The long fingers flexed and tensed around his forehead curl tightly, and he twitches, whole body trembling, teeth sunk hard into his bottom lip to stop his chin from quivering.

It does not work.

The first sob is quiet. He catches it quickly, forcing it back down, breathing heavily through his nose and out his mouth to beat it back. The second follows quickly, though, and it’s harder to choke down. When his face crumples, his resolve goes with it, and his knees hit the floor, sharp crack swallowed by the stillness of the room. He curls forward until his nose nearly hits his knees, hands sliding through his hair and over his ears and settling finally clutching together in the dip of his chest, bouncing with every heave of his chest. It’s quiet, his crying, enough that every dropped tear can be heard as it hits the dusty floor. The only time his sobs are ever audible is when he opens his mouth, trying desperately to soak up enough air to catch himself, to carry himself through.

Mute horror holds Nico’s tongue hostage.

He’d escaped in here the second Will had been called away this morning, dragged for the umpteenth time to handle a crashing patient or a complicated hymn or to soothe someone’s nerves. For the past two days he’s been doing his best to monitor Nico and a handful of other front liners who’d exhausted themselves in battle, but his focus has been split and the infirmary has been crowded. Whenever he runs off to put out whatever fire had cropped up — sometimes literally — the whispers start, the glances, the skin crawling up Nico’s back. Nico can hardly tell anymore what’s the shadows and what’s the people around him, watching him out of the corners of their eyes like they’re waiting for him to bust out a scythe and a black hooded cloak and start reaping.

The storage room is supposed to be an escape. Out of the way and forgotten as it is, it is supposed to be the place he can hide for an hour, escape the heavy gaze of the rest of the camp, collect himself before braving it all again.

Clearly, though, he’s not the only one who thinks so.

There’s something disorienting about seeing Will Solace cry. In the few times Nico has spoken with him during his visits to camp, he’s been a barely-contained explosion of energy, whether talking Nico’s ear off with updates about people he barely knows and references he hardly understands or cussing him out for overextending himself. He’s used — as much as he can be to someone he’s only beginning to really get to know — to his wildly flailing hands and widely playful grin, his loud drawling voice, his painful, constant brightness.

His hands, now, clench until they’re bloodless, trembling. There is no hint of his wide smile or twinkling eyes, because his face is hidden by all the hair that his given up on the pretence of the hairband, and the only sound from him are his gasping breaths and swallowed-back sobs. Nico watches him because he cannot look away. He flinches because every cry, every rough, scraping inhale, sounds like shattering rock, like an iceberg breaking off a glacier.

A quiet beeping startles them both.

For a stretch of time Will is motionless. The beeping continues, steady and soft, bouncing off the cluttered shelves and fading before they echo. After the third round — and Nico counts, if anything for something to do besides watch the chafed skin on Will’s hands crack and bleed with every flex — he drags himself upright, nails drawing lines in the thick dust of the floorboards, and rests back on his heels. He breathes for a moment, shuddering, hands pressed flat to his face; in, beep, beep, beep; out, beep, beep, beep. None of his breaths are ever steady, but he wastes no more time, swiping under his eyes and pinching his cheeks to restore his face to some of its usual colour. He grips onto each board of the shelf to his right as he yanks himself upwards, hand over hand, until he’s stretched, finally, to stand, although there remains a slouch to his broad shoulders.

The beeping continues, emanating from the watch on his left hand, growing softer or louder as he trails his fingers over the shelves from one end to the other, from the first, the second, the third. He pauses finally on a collection of bottles, turning them carefully to read the labels, then tucks them each gently into his already bulging pockets until he is left with what he must carry between his fingers.

The shadows bend to cover Nico again as Will turns, unknowingly facing him, and pulls himself suddenly straight-backed, chin set high, shoulders squared. He smiles, wide, fractured, squinting his eyes deliberately. The beeping stops. He breathes, in, smile, out, nod, and turns, striding, back to the door, opening it with flourish and swiping the dust off his clothes.

“Found them! Sorry it took so long, I really had to look —”

The door swings shut behind him, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

Nico stares at it with bile churning in his too-empty stomach.

———

art by the incredible @clingonlikeclingwrap

[flimsy-spine]

my favorite madney scenes: [37/?] ⇢ Breaking Point, 4.08

[eye-of-the-hawk]

“Yes. Stole my own hypothesis and turned it against me.”

“Fascinating. I’d love to meet her.”

“… Ah. So you’re just like her here, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“*Sigh…* unfortunately, you’ve already made it quite obvious.”

[pandaragons]

Hello wtnv fandom if you exist hi

Also hello to my very small amount of followers yes i do exist I just forgor to post in forever literally only place I've been posting my art is in various discord servers 💀..

[nervousgnome]

[hazelpuff]

[keripulli]

Found a small prop bouque I made a while ago for something else, thought it was the perfect size for her.

Made a darn cute pic

( ⬇️ I wanted to draw her, not sure what I was doin so I’m hiding it lol)

not gonna lie it was cuter as a sketch but eh

then again wasn't trying that hard

Proof it was way cuter before

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Jacob: I didn’t really see him that much anyway, y’know? Like he wasn’t a dad dad to me. Jude: It’s alright for you then. Jacob: At least you get to stay at Robin’s now, it’s like a sleepover every weekend! Jude: I guess-.. everything’s still weird though. [Jacob shrugged, unsure what else to say; he didn’t understand grownups any more than Jude did] Jude: I can’t believe dad n’ Pixie got to go on holiday without me. Jacob: Aren’t you going somewhere with your mom n’ Gavin in the summer holidays? Jude: I’d rather stay with dad then be bribed by my stupid soon to be step-dad… Jacob: Don’t tell her that. [Robin sighed, bored of his friends talking about grownups and their nonsense; there was enough of that at home without Jude and Jacob banging on about it all day as well. He almost felt grateful as Levi strode towards them, at least he’d change the subject] Levi: Any of you losers got a date for the dance yet? Jude: Not yet… Jacob: Who cares? Levi: I might ask Juniper later. Jude: You can’t! Levi: Oooh, why not? Jude: I mean-.. you could, but she wouldn’t say yes. Levi: Guess we’ll find out-.. what about you, Mutey? You could give someone a note or something, right? [Robin said nothing, much to Levi’s chagrin, eventually forcing him to continue without a response] Levi: Well.. three girls have asked me already, so you better hurry up or I’ll steal ‘em all. Jacob: [snorts] Like anyone would wanna go with you. Levi: I bet your mom would. Jacob: Which one? Levi: What? Teacher: C’mon, boys.. the bell rang five minutes ago. [Levi tensed slightly as Jude and Jacob wandered off, leaving him alone with Robin] Levi: Are you deaf as well? [Robin remained silent but passive, fascinated by Levi’s contradicting and tumultuous thoughts] Levi: I’m not actually gonna ask Juniper, I know she’s your cousin… [Robin shrugged; it wasn’t his business who Levi asked to some lame dance-.. Jacob was right anyway, who cared?] Levi: But if I did, she’d say yes. [Robin squinted; he wasn’t so sure about that] Levi: [scoffs] You’re creepy as hell, d’you know that? Always staring at people-.. such a weirdo. Teacher: Chop, chop, boys!